Winter
by Pinfeathers
Summary: When Sarah defeated Jareth she unknowingly trapped him in his owl form and banished him Aboveground. All but helpless without his magic can Jareth survive a particularly harsh winter, or will Sarah leave him to freeze to death in the storm?
1. A Comming Storm

Disclaimer:

I obviously do not own Labyrinth or any associated characters, they all belong to Jim Henson and whatever other associated people who might have the rights to them, whoever that might be.

This is just fan fiction, written with the intent to be shared amongst fans who appreciate the movie for all that it is, but have an insatiable craving for what might have been. There were paths not take, both figuratively and literally, themes not fully explored, and so many questions left unanswered even as the credits rolled; As always, communities of fans like these will be led to question 'why', 'how', and 'what if…?' It can be said that there are many paths through a labyrinth, and we were shown but one, and not what lay past the end we were given. After all, Sarah made it to the castle beyond the Goblin City, but the labyrinth visibly extends on beyond them both.

A/N: It has been brought to my attention by a reviewer that I failed to explain how long it had been since the end of the move in this first chapter. I hadn't notice, which I'm blaming on the fact that I have several similar projects in the works that all _do_ explain. XD Anyway, working under the assumption that Sarah was about 15, it's been about three years. In my head right now, she's probably near graduating high school. Also, another reviewer brought it to my attention that I had spelled Toby with an E in it, which is how I'd spell it… I fixed it though, 'cuz they were right that's not how they spelled it.

**Winter**

Chapter One: A Coming Storm

Jareth shuddered on the branch, shivering in the cold. The winter had come early this year and he had never tolerated the cold particularly well, in Fae _or _owl form.

He had been trapped in his barn owl form since Sarah had defeated him. He was simple unable to regain his original form. He could not work more than the simplest spells in this form. He could temporarily hide himself from the sight of mortals, but that was pretty much it. When she said those words, (he dared not so much as think them even now,) his world had crumbled, both figuratively and literally. He had found himself cast from the Underground. Apparently the magic which had whisked her home had somehow ended up bringing him along. Jareth had opened his eyes to find himself in his owl form in Sarah's living room. He saw her and immediately escaped through the front door which had been conveniently blown open by the wind stirred up by the magic. Sarah had started at seeing him, but had made no attempt to follow. He found out quickly what had befallen him when he tried to whisk himself back to his castle, only to discover that he couldn't. At the time he had just enough residual power to briefly see the state of his kingdom. The Escher room lay in ruins, and the Labyrinth was slowly falling apart without him to maintain it.

He sat in the elm tree outside of Sarah's window, looking in through her living room window below him. Inside he caught glimpses of her family bustling about, preparing for dinner and decorating the house for the Holliday season. Jareth watched them all day with his hooded owl eyes. He would sit and watch them all evening too, as they lived their lives, oblivious to his presence. It was such a lonely thing to be forgotten.

Jareth shivered again before starching his wings and flying up over the roof of Sarah's home. He sighed tiredly, (though completely internal aside from a slight exhale, because owls can't sigh now can they.) His cramped muscles pulled as he climbed above the neighborhood. He was stiff with cold, and terribly hungry he realized momentarily. It was difficult to find prey in prey in these winter months, and he disliked lowering himself to eating vermin to begin with. He was growing more desperate each day, homeless and slowly starving in the frigid aboveground weather. He gained altitude with effort, banking to circle around the house, each wing beat filled with deepening sorrow and despair.

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Sarah was balancing atop a stepladder as she strung beaded Christmas garlands along the walls of the front hall. Toby and Karen were in the kitchen making a batch of cookies and her dad was digging through the basement, trying to locate more decorations and the tree stand. Given that the last time she had been down there she had been strongly reminded of the junk yard from her trip to the Labyrinth, she didn't expect he was having an easy time of it. Sarah snorted in amusement at the thought of the junk lady offering her father random articles from around the basement and asking, "Is this what you were looking for, aye Deary?"

She glanced down the entryway, and out the windows on either side of the door, watching the fading winter light. She looked critically at the heavy clouds advancing along the horizon from the North West. A storm was coming, and a nasty one at that. Sarah finished putting up the last hook and fastened the end of the garland to it before carefully climbing down. She padded across the entryway rug with woolen Christmas sock covered feet and looked out of the window again, a frown sliding over her holiday cheer.

"Karen, there's a big storm coming. I'm going to tell Dad to bring up some candles from the basement," Sarah called into the kitchen.

"Alright Sarah," her step mother called back. Sarah turned down the other end of the hallway and opened the door which led to the basement steps.

"Dad?" she called. A muffled, "Yeah, Sarah?" was heard in response, and she carefully began descending the steps towards the sound of her father shuffling boxes.

"There's a storm coming in and me and Karen thought we should get out the candles and stuff, since it looks like it's going to be bad."

"Sure Honey, the news people were just talking about it this morning on TV." Sarah nodded, and then remembered that he wasn't looking at her and answered in agreement. "They're in those green handled storage bins above the work bench," he told her, raising his head above the mountain of boxes which obscured most of him from view. He gestured vaguely with one arm, a small box still in hand.

Sarah picked her way over to the work bench against one wall, and pulled over a sturdy looking box. She stepped up on the box and pulled down three of the plastic storage bins with green locking handles on either end of the lids. One at a time she set them carefully on the floor. Sarah kneeled in front of them and removed the lid of the first one. Inside was a myriad of different objects, from metal gauges to the spare charger for the cordless drill's battery. After shifting the contents slightly and removing a few objects to look beneath, she determined that the likelihood of this box containing candles, judging from its contents, were very small indeed. Replacing the discarded objects in their box, she put the lid back on and snapped the handles back down to lock the edges in place. She turned to the next box and rummaged through it. Somehow unsurprised by the fact that this one seemed to contain the Christmas baubles her father was looking for on the other side of the garage, she carried it over to him, plunking it down on a box in front of him to attract his attention. With a sweeping gesture she indicated the contents of the box, made a theatrical bow to an imaginary audience who was currently cheering her for her amazing box-finding abilities, and walked back to the third box.

As she kneeled once again before the box, she sighed internally. At this rate she'd probably end up carrying down the other three boxes above the bench. _'They're probably all just as heavy as the first three too,' _she thought wearily. Winter was among her favorite seasons, and the holidays were lovely. _'It's just that they're so well… Exhausting.'_ There was so much to do. Putting up decorations, bake tons of cookies and holiday treats (although Toby and his mother pretty much had that covered from the sound of things in the kitchen all afternoon), relatives to wish well or visit, presents to buy, snow to play in, parties to attend… That was right, snow to play in… She had to take Toby out and show him how to build a properly defensible snow fort. They'd begun teaching him the finer points of snow ball fights last year, but this year they'd really get into the good stuff. She grinned evilly at the thought of leading Toby in an ambush against the boys down the street. '_This storm will probably give us plenty of snow to work with at least,'_ she reasoned, shrugging at the thought that something good might come of that beast of a storm, and went back to unpacking the box. She removed a layer of batteries, and was amazed when she actually uncovered several boxes of candles. _'Wow,' _Sarah mused _'with my luck I was expecting them to be in the last box in the back corner. Especially with Dad's apparent talents for finding things, I'm pleasantly surprised that they were even over here,' _Sarah cast half-glance over at her father, still plowing through his mountain of boxes in search of the tree stand.

Sarah extracted two boxes of tall candles, a couple of pillar candles, and a box of matches from the storage bin. She sighed once again before lifting the two weighty bins back up onto their shelf over the work bench, deciding to leave the rest of the candles where they could be gotten to easily, just in case. She bid her father luck with the tree stand and ascended the stairs, reemerging into the living area of the house.

Toby and Karen stepped from the kitchen, laughing and lightly dusted with flour.

"Well, looks like someone's been having fun," Sarah turned to Karen after her step-mother shooed Toby upstairs to get ready for his bath.

"You think so? You should see the kitchen," Karen Joked. "I better go start cleaning now, or I won't be able to find the stove to make dinner!" Sarah laughed at that, and went to put her arm load of candles down on the coffee table in the den. She checked to make sure there was a good supply of firewood in the rack beside the fireplace. _'No,'_ she frowned, '_that's not quite enough.'_ She looked critically at the partially full wood bin. _'Two good armloads should fill it and leave plenty for a good fire for the evening.'_

Sarah pulled on her boots, slinging on her coat and pulling on a pair of gloves. She opened the front door and shivered slightly, even through her warm coat, at the gust of freezing air that met her. It was even colder than it had been a few hours ago when she'd last com inside, and the temperature must be falling rapidly from the feel of things.

The William's garage was at the end of the gravel driveway which curved around the house from the street to the back of the lot. Robert kept the wood stacked against the outside of the back wall of the garage. Sarah stepped off the front porch and walked along the path over to the driveway. She clenched her jaw to keep herself from gasping from the cold as the strong gusting wind slammed into her now that she was clear of the relative protection of the house.

'_I really pity anyone unlucky enough to be caught out in this mess,_' she decided grimly as she walked forward.

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A/N: Well, there's the first chapter, just over 1,700 words. That's really good for me, since I tend to try to update things more at paragraphs than chapters… DX I'm working on this in-between classes at school, so hopefully the next update won't be too far off, although I make no promises…

Holly crap! That was roughly seven and a half pages handwritten, and it condensed to around three in my formatting in Microsoft word! I'm truly shocked; traditionally our guidelines for class tell us that two pages handwritten are about one-and-a-quarter typed. Ok, honestly, the ratio isn't very far off, but every time I look at it, I'm still flabbergasted. I've never written out anything that long and had it all numbered and together for the typing, I guess…

I have several other Labyrinth projects started, (yes, I'm sorry guys, but I finally kind of weaned myself off yu-gi-oh, and am no stuck on Labyrinth.)

Next Chapter: Probably a good deal of Jareth angst to follow, and plenty of Sarah feeling guilty too.

Enjoy! Please leave a Review to let me know what you think of it, or anything else you feel like sharing really, about Jareth, labyrinth, or otherwise! If there's one thing I love more than talking to people, it's listening to people talk back to me! XD

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	2. A Cold Wind Blowing

Chapter Two: A Cold Wind Blowing

Jareth flew another uneven circle around the Williams' property. He could not recall a time in his life when he had ever felt so utterly drained. His wing beats slowed and he began to lose altitude. He couldn't go on like this; He simply could not. The white barn owl tried to land once more in the tree he had been perched in earlier, but fell short, his freezing wings giving out at last. Unable to properly correct his flight path, and to stiff and weak at to even hold out his wings and glide, Jareth simply slammed into the snow covered ground. He shifted feebly then lay still, disoriented. Shock quickly set in, finishing what the cold had begun, numbing his body and mind completely. His large, mismatched owl eyes slid closed slowly. He wouldn't fight anymore, he couldn't. The once mighty Goblin King lay on the snow covered ground as night fell and heavy wet snowflakes began to fall from the dark storm overhead, he let his consciousness slip away and fell into blissful nothingness. There, at least, he would not know himself to be freezing to death in a world far from his home, trapped in a form that was not his true one.

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Sarah trod carefully through the snow which had formed a new layer over the former layer, hiding all but the deepest footprints, and smoothing all other interruptions of the perfect white planes to perfection once more. She gazed down the street, taking in the sight of the houses all in a row, looking like little gingerbread houses with their holiday trimmings iced over by the fresh snow. She smiled softly at the childhood memories the thought evoked. _'There can't be anyone who_ doesn't _fondly remember their early Christmases,'_ she decided. Her thinking was rather idealistic she knew, but still… She believed that Christmas should be wonderful for everyone, no matter who they were or what they did the rest of the year. The whole Christmas period was meant to be filled with joy and family. Everyone deserved to be happy during a season like that.

Sarah reached the back of the garage and easily un-stacked an armload of wood from the large stack. She gathered it securely into her arms and walked back to the porch. Opening the door skillfully with one elbow and went inside. After placing her load neatly in the wood bin by the hearth she took a moment to warm herself in front of one of the heating ducts. 'Thank the lord for central heating' she thought as she felt her fingers begin to thaw. She'd only been out there for a short time and already she was more than just chilled. Resisting the growing urge to just curl up on the couch with a warm blanket, she pulled her gloves back on and walked back to the door. _'I just have to get one more armload. Then I can stay inside all night, drinking warm eggnog and playing "Go Fish" with Toby in front of the fire.'_ Sarah reassured herself strengthening her resolve against the strong wind that battered her, now accompanied by flakes of snow and sharp pellets of sleet. The tiny pieces of ice stung the exposed skin of her face and she ducked, raising her shoulders so that her collar rose up above her nose like a turtle retreating into its shell. _'I better make this quick, the storm's really coming in hard and I doubt I'll want to be out her for much longer.' Much longer_, who was she kidding? She didn't really even want to be out here now. Sarah listened to the indefinite crunch of the snow, feeling the thinnest layer of sleet-formed ice give way first, just before the snow began to give way, crunching softly itself. Effectively there were two layers on the ground, making steps crunchy and uneven.

Sarah was focusing or making it to her destination, and not really watching where she was going, despite keeping her eyes on her feet. Just as she was glancing up once again as she had been, to make sure she was still leading straight for the garage, when she felt her toe bump something much firmer than the snow, but with much more give than the forming ice. Looking down she spotted a small rise in the snow at her feet, only a few inches at most. Something was buried in the snow at her toes. _'Toby must have left one of his toys out here before the snow. Maybe it's a stuffed animal? He better not have left Lancelot out here! Sure I love him and I let him play with Lancelot, but I've told him to be careful. Lancelot's an old bear, he needs to be treated gently. Toby's usually so good about things like that; I hope he didn't forget him out there.' _Toby did indeed often tote around the small bear, along with many of his other toys, ranging from a Barney plushy to a red plastic fire engine. Sarah sighed and squatted down in the snow, trying not to soak her knees of backside. She brushed off the layer of ice and grabbed a hold of the object under the snow. She began to pull it out then stopped, dropping it abruptly and shrieking at what she found as the snow shifted away. Now exposed, feathers moved stiffly by the harsh wind, was the limp form of a white owl.

Sarah's immediate reaction was to flee. She had seen the Goblin King transform into a man from a white owl that night that he had come to nursery; and after she defeated him she had seen one fly off into the night. What if he was after her again, what if he'd come for Toby? Panic flickered through her mind, freezing her in place. She could not move, could hardly even breathe for the fright which consumed her. Desperation to protect herself and Toby took over and she was able to stiffly push herself to her feet and back away. Only a few steps away however, she stopped again. Logic crept into her mind and whispered its soothing words of reason. It was just an owl. 'But then again, things aren't always what they seem,' Sarah reminded herself. She warily stepped closer again. The hand she reached out trembled with her frantic emotions. Her gloved fingers made contact with soft white feathers and the limp form did not so much as twitch.

Sarah let out a breath that she hadn't realized that she's been holding. _'It's only an owl,'_ she chided herself. She wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting to happen, maybe for the owl to suddenly hop up and transform into the smirking, wild haired king who had stolen her brother. No, the bloody feathers remained unchanged.

"Poor thing," she whispered to herself as she smoothed the slightly rumpled feathers in one clean patch, carefully avoiding the bright red blood. '_So sad, for such a creature to die out here all alone in the cold._' She lifted one of the wings, intending to inspect the beautiful plumage. Suddenly she felt a click and pop under her fingers, realizing that the bones must be broken. Sarah jumped violently a moment later, dropping the wing when she heard a pitiful, cooing cry. "Oh my Lord!" she exclaimed. 'It's _still alive_,' she thought in wonder. Sarah noticed then just how bright and fresh the blood was, still spreading through the snow.

* * *

Jareth slowly began to regain consciousness. All he felt was pain and he let the cold pull him back under, seeking escape. Just as he was almost lost again, he felt a sudden stabbing pain in his arm…His wing? He wasn't sure anymore. The cry of pain was all reflex and instinct, beyond that he didn't have the strength for such things. Both unable, and unwilling to hang onto this hazy pain-filled consciousness, he slipped away once more, drifting farther away from the lands of the living.

* * *

Sarah knew she had to act quickly if she wanted to save the owl; if she didn't do something soon the small spark of life left in the owl would not last much longer, it might already be too late. She had always had a soft spot for animals, and said spot was making itself known once again, judging by the pangs of sympathy she felt in her heart. The air felt even colder now, seeming frigid enough to chill any living creature to the depths of its soul. The shower of tinny sleet had turned into thick flakes which the wind blew down at a steep angle, before dashing them violently into the ground. She quickly unzipped her coat pulling off her thick scarf and laying it on the ground next to her. It had been a gift from a school friend the year before and had been a joke at the time. The scarf was terribly large, wide enough to qualify as a shawl if it wasn't doubled over properly. Her friend had been learning how to knit and had been quite overzealous. She'd scarcely put down the needles to eat or sleep for a week. The result had been the multicolored monstrosity that now adorned Sarah's neck during the coldest months. Not thinking of the blood that would stain her scarf, she bent once more over the owl lying in the snow. Sarah carefully slipped her gloved hands under it and lifted it easily, gently setting it on top of the scarf at her side. She wrapped it up loosely, trying not to smother or greatly disturb it, and bringing the tiny bundled body up to be cradled against the warmth of her chest. She stood up unsteadily, bracing against the now howling wind, and unable to use her hands to help her rise from her kneeling position. She turned back to the house and hurried back towards the porch and the front door.

"Hang on Mr. Owl, I'm not going to let you die just yet!" Sarah muttered to herself as she trudged her way through the storm.

* * *

A/N: Hmmm, that's a little short I think, but I lost my manuscript a couple of weeks back and it's really bothering me. I just don't know where it went. I've become one of those people who freaks out over the loss of a pencil…. Given I've also managed to use the same mechanical pencil for two and a half years before the mechanical part finally wore out. I swear, I was gonna give it a proper burial and everything, but I finally just threw it out. XD This folder had most of my written Labyrinth stuff in it, including some really sweet sketches depicting Sarah and Jareth together as a barn owl and a black cat. (Yeah, that is kind of how I see them in my head. Honestly though, I don't know what else to associate Sarah with animal-wise. She strikes me as a cat personally.) I'm not sure what else was in there, but I don't think it was anything particularly important. The good news is that all the fanfic stuff was typed up to exactly where it was written, so none of that was really lost! ^^ The bad news is that last week I was working on a sketch I dug out from the summer of an archer, and it mysteriously disappeared the next day! DX I do not just loose stuff like that, and it's driving me insane!

Well, sorry for the rant, there's an update for y'all… (Holly crud! Did I actually just type _Y'all_!? *Shudders*) Please let me know what you think; I love to hear from other fans! Your opinions are very much welcome, no matter if they're nitpicky, or even entirely unrelated! XD (Seriously, if I've made some grammar error and you catch it, drop me a line and I'll be happy to fix it! ^^

Oh, and just for kicks-and-giggles (FYI): This chapter was somewhere in the middle of page 13 of the manuscript when I lost it! LOL

-Pinfeathers


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